Sun-drenched hooks and sunscreen-slathered horn sections are not very Iowa. But for Andrew Hoyt and his latest EP, Kind of Paradise, bottling sunshine is the point, whether charting heartbreak or relationship blissdom.
A born and raised Iowan, Hoyt blends his Midwest sensibility with the polish of his Nashville collaborators and a Hawaiian influence to make a final product as tropical as it is timeless and polished. There’s also a lot of creative flair laid bare within its six tracks with luscious production, balanced between full band and a pared-down pluck of a ukulele.
Throughout the EP runtime, Hoyt is caught between old breakups and new love songs, often against backdrops of paradise, albeit with spurts of rough tides. But no matter the subject, there’s an assuredness that the music will swell and remain upbeat, even when the lyrics are in direct conflict with that mood. It’s paradise, kind of.
That chameleonic nature carries into Hoyt’s genre blend — somewhere between the ’00s pop traditions of Jason Mraz and Andy Grammar, the tropical wistfulness of a Jack Johnson crooner and a new league of breezy soul-inspired R&B à la Lawrence and Vulfpeck. The result is a marriage of balmy heartbreak with cinematic brass and maybe one too many Mai Tais.
Within its tracks, Kind of Paradise has the danceable and euphoric juice of a song of the summer. “Caught in the Middle” is a perfect encapsulation of Hoyt’s happy-sad song speciality. Equal parts smooth vocal elasticity and an absolute earworm of a chorus, the tune belongs on the speakers of a windows-down car in summertime, doleful lyrics be damned.
Hoyt’s grounded world of sunsets and beach days in tracks like “Kind of Paradise” and “Cloud 9″ gives way to a skyful of stars and more esoteric musings. The bigness of his feelings clearly can’t be contained in a few love metaphors. In “Perfect,” a slow R&B serenade, love becomes a cosmos, a universe, a whole world of its own.
As campfires die and darkness falls, highlight track “Postcard” sets in, all moonlight and constellations. Instrumental strings surge and warbly guitars wail, sweeping and cinematic. And yet, the vacation is over. Goodbyes are exchanged. “This will all be just a memory before you know,” Hoyt pensively sings. But don’t worry, he’ll send you a postcard.
The sand has been rinsed from our sandals, but Kind of Paradise needn’t be a memory. This vibrant EP is a dose of summer you can return to time and time again.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s May 2025 issue.
